


Holidays in the Sun

by orphan_account



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Bondage, Face-Fucking, M/M, happy christmas jack, i'm never telling anyone that i write again, mild mild dub con?, oh god what am i doing with my life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 18:28:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2861177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zeus pisses off Hades, Hades pisses off Zeus, but Zeus typically wins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holidays in the Sun

Time flows differently for the god of the dead.

As they pass near the chamber of Hades in their aimless shuffling, the dead humans of the underworld occasionally hear loud, distorted strings, banging, and a man screaming in a language that would not arise for thousands of years. The ancient Greeks would have no way of knowing the concept of punk rock, or the Sex Pistols, but Hades Polydegmon did have that concept - and a record player.

The Lord of the Underworld also has something new in his collection of riches. Zeus always pisses him off. Hades isn’t stupid, he hasn’t taken the lightning bolt or the Aegis. Instead, he’d grabbed the mechanical eagle that sat by the throne while Zeus attended to yet another issue between Aphrodite and somebody. It was impulsive and Zeus is now incredibly angry about this, but Hades is confident he’s escaped suspicion. Hera was the one sent down to question him, and she confided that she’d been pissed off by the eagle screaming all the time anyway. Even if she has figured out that Hades took the thing, she’s probably happy about it.

The record has a scratch around the middle of Holiday in the Sun. Hades has always just moved the needle and ignored it, but he’s still a god. He’s about to make a journey out of the Underworld to acquire a new copy when something slams him against the wall. The force jostles the record player past the skip and the song continues. 

But Hades isn’t really listening to Johnny Rotten scream about East Berlin. He’s crumpled on the floor, trying to move his arms and feeling a shock every time his heart beats. His mouth is bleeding and a Misfits poster on the wall has fallen on his head. “Do you get off on being so petty all the ti - the fuck is that noise?”

It’s Zeus. His voice is unmistakable. The shocks wear off just enough for Hades to pull himself so he’s sitting up. “Music. You’ll understand in, oh, seven thousand years. What, could you hear it all the way from the sky?”

“No, but I heard something from Hera that made me realize that you’re a fucking liar. And would you look at that!” Zeus pulls Hades up by his forearm, and with the other hand grabs the mechanical eagle, breaking the rope, and holds it in front of him. After a few seconds he flings his arm up to let the bird fly away. “I must be a fucking idiot for thinking you’re going to get over yourself and stop pulling shit like this.”

“Yeah, I’d agree with that assessment.”

Zeus scowls at him, and Hades laughs under his breath. “Shut the fuck up. What am I supposed to do with a god who doesn’t know when to stop being disrespectful to his king?”

Hades doesn’t answer. The retort would be too easy, and in the end he’s a bit of a coward. He narrows his eyes and looks up at Zeus. “I don’t know. What are you supposed to do?” And yet, his cowardice doesn’t stop him from making a thinly veiled challenge. “Seeing as you can’t kill me. Even hurting me would probably be unwise.” 

Zeus lightens his grip and Hades squirms free. There’s a red mark on his forearm that he rubs. “But if you still want me to make it up to you, I’m sure I could figure something out.” He says this with a wink. Hades himself doesn’t know if he’s trying to be ironic with this or not, but it’s kind of fun. He drops to his knees. “I beg you to forgive me.”

God Save the Queen begins to play as Zeus balls a fist around Hades’s hair. He seems to get the message. “You’re an ass. You’re in no way deserving of divinity.”

“The god of the underworld is whoring himself out to you for forgiveness - do you think this’ll happen again?”

“Probably.”

Hades pulls back, but he’s forgotten about the fingers in his hair. He winces, and Zeus smirks. “You can’t handle anything, but you keep doing things that piss me off.” 

There’s projection from Zeus’s robes and Hades can feel blood rush between his own legs. “I can manage,” He mutters, and Zeus yanks him by the hair towards his prick. He pulls aside the robes and Hades automatically runs his tongue along the underside of Zeus’s cock. He leans in to brush his lips against it in a mockery of a kiss.

He starts to take the head into his mouth. Hades brushes the tip of his tongue against the glans, and pulls his mouth off. It’s shiny with Hades’s saliva. He flicks lightly in circles around the foreskin, and Zeus makes what might be his biggest admission of pleasure with a soft grunt. Hades puts the head back into his mouth.

Faster than he expected, Zeus’s hand moves to the back of Hades’s head and he’s pushed down so the rest of Zeus’s shaft is shoved into his mouth and the head against the back of his throat. Johnny Rotten’s voice rings through the room in a mockery of the national anthem of a nation that doesn’t exist yet, and Zeus is staring at the ceiling. Hades takes this opportunity to pull his own robes aside and begin to take care of his own cock, which has been aching since he got on his knees. He pushes the palm of his hand against the top of his cock while dutifully bobbing his head.

But Zeus looks back down.

Hades mutters fuck around Zeus’s cock. Zeus takes his hand off Hades’s hair and takes the other god’s hands, tying them with his own sash to a beam on the bed. Hades is pulled a bit off of his knees in an uncomfortable, awkward position, with Zeus’s prick hanging in his mouth. The job is surveyed and Zeus smirks, then pulls harder on Hades’s hair. 

Hades is pulled off of Zeus and looks up at him, a string of precum mixed with saliva hanging from his mouth. “You’re not going to touch yourself while serving me.” Zeus’s voice is as cold as his hands, which hold Hades’s face. Then he slaps him. Hades doesn’t make a sound. “I’m not going to relieve you period. I’ll just leave you tied here.” 

There’s no point in begging Zeus not to. Hades nods, with his face stinging. “I’m glad you’re being quiet.”

Hades leans forward, to take Zeus’s prick again. The hand returns to the back of his head, but his hair isn’t being pulled. He’s pushed back onto the cock and his head is moved for him. Hades closes his eyes. He desperately wants something to touch him, and he squirms on the ropes in an attempt to get his arms free. Eventually the sash begins to hurt his wrists and he stops, but with refusal to completely submit.

Zeus finishes in his mouth. As a final act of defiance, Hades spits the come out of his mouth. It runs down his chest across the floor.

“It’s your home, not mine.”


End file.
